Review by Jay Richardson

Confessional stand-up presented through surreal clowning, Mawaan Rizwan isn't always an easy watch.

Resplendent in sparkly dress, kohl-eyed make-up and dreadlocks, he's by turns a needy and sexually aggressive figure, striving to seduce his audience, keeping you on seat edge with his coquettish playfulness and threat of engaging as he strides over chairs.

Johnny Depp's Captain Jack Sparrow is his obvious cultural touchstone. But while Rizwan fights shy of his management's comparing him to The Mighty Boosh, there's a dash of Noel Fielding in his performance as well – the crooked grin acknowledging the daftness of his flights of fancy; the cartoonish hybrid creation defined by a couple of strong quirks, his maritime gender fluidity inevitably bringing to mind the Boosh's trans merman Old Gregg.

Rizwan's character is distinct enough in its own right, though. Outside is the dull, conformist world we're wedded to, that's he's determined to make us cheat on. His transgressive, piratical inclinations stem from a specific childhood indiscretion he says, a trivial incident presented in a throwaway gag. Daddy issues seem closer to the mark though, his father's questioning of his career couched in euphemism. A minority of one in respect to his gender-bending based buccaneering, Rizwan nevertheless appropriates the struggle of an entire oppressed group, while acknowledging it's not all men who repress him.

Sporting kneepads for his nightclub encounters and needing little excuse to twerk, he's mischievously slutty. And for the front rows at least, decidedly in your face. But there's also an endearing, childish quality to all the posturing, dress up and make-believe, imbuing the baby wipes he wafts out over the crowd with a soothing, fairytale quality.

Mostly, though, Rizwan luxuriates in silliness for silliness' sake, rolling the word 'falafel' round his mouth till it loses all familiarity; compounding randomly shouted words together to form new ones, a capricious exercise in pointlessness; and delivering impressions of household items, submissive in his entreaty to the audience’s patience. There's the odd effort at more conventional stand-up, as with his critique of R Kelly's Ignition. But it's quickly subsumed back into the tomfoolery.

Aspiring to build elaborate castles in the sky, some routines, such as his participation in a nude charity cycle are just tediously arrived-at cul-de-sacs. But there's a frisson to Rizwan's audience interaction and glint in his eye, which, while it won't appeal to everyone, has a definite edge. Even if it ultimately resolves into him cheerfully declaring 'fuck your gender expectations!' with Jack Sparrow-style grandstanding.

Review date: 28 Aug 2016
Reviewed by: Jay Richardson
Reviewed at: Laughing Horse @ Dropkick Murphys